


As Cold as the Night

by thereisafire



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:23:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisafire/pseuds/thereisafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma tries something new in the bedroom. Scott doesn't disapprove.</p><p>(Originally for the Marvel Kink Meme. Prompt: Scott Summers/Emma Frost, pegging.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Cold as the Night

She's got the box out when he steps into the room, and for a moment Scott's relieved, because he's so exasperated from training the kids that even a flogging would be better than the day he went through.

  
Then she takes out the blindfold, and he knows it's not going to be an easy night.

"Emma, you know -"

She shushes him.

"Well, then you'll have to close your eyes _very_ tightly, won't you?"

Then there's a hand on the back of his neck, cupping it lightly, and he closes his eyes while she lifts the visor off and ties the blindfold on. She pulls sharply, and it's reassuring knowing that there's something, a firm pressure on his eyes, preventing him from completely losing control.

He removes his costume instinctively, with Emma's fingertips guiding his hands. He could do this himself, but it's easier, somehow, to let her help.

"I'm going to try something new tonight. I think you'll like it."

He doesn't object. He knows that he can stop this if he wants, and this is one area of his life where he can afford to give up control.

He swallows, and nods.

A brief, tender stroke down his bare spine (her fingertips are always slightly cool), and there's a slick sound (lube, probably), and a slippery, cool fingertip touching the cleft between his buttocks, and it's in.

It's slightly uncomfortable, she's only ever done this before his orgasm to make it better for him, but that's probably not the case now, and one finger becomes two and _two_ hit the sweet spot.

He tosses his head and lets out a deep moan, relaxing the tension in his brow, eyes still remaining closed behind the blindfold. Emma understands what has to supercede all other things, and on the rare nights she tries to break him, long and slow and drawn-out, she'll allow him the visor.

This won't be an easy night, but it won't be a long one.

The fingers are withdrawn, and there's a blunt pressure against the cleft now, and warm breath against his ear.

"Spread."

He forces himself to relax his body, and spreads his legs wider for her, and it hurts to be so open. The strap-on breaches him, and there's a burning, stretching sensation, but he can feel Emma's touch in his mind, grounding him, thinking _shh, won't this feel good_ and he settles a little.

Then she starts moving, and the slow, gentle thrusts become a lot less sedate, and his long, drawn-out moans become quick little whimpers. The angle shifts, and suddenly she's hitting the sweet spot with each thrust, and his eyes scrunch shut behind the blindfold in ecstasy.

There's a flare of panic as she tugs on his hair while she's shifting positions, but her mind's in his, and he can tell it wasn't meant to harm him, not like all those others before. She notices, and prevents him from slipping away into his past, using those cool fingertips to grasp his hips and thrusting deeper. He bucks against her involuntarily, entirely lost in the moment.

If he could see her, she'd probably be smiling. Not the cruel smirk that she reserves for everyone else, but the one she reserves for when she's truly enjoying herself.

The rhythm is varied, too erratic, slowing down whenever he's close, speeding up whenever he seems to be less involved. He can't force her to match him, so now he focuses entirely on matching her whims, to please her.

She makes a mildly irritated noise and stops moving. Did he do something wrong?

Emma brushes against his mind again.

_You're mine. But not my pet._

Then she thrusts deeper, moving her hips even more, plowing him, and he spreads his legs even wider, eager to take what she's offering to give him. Reacting to the sensations of his body, instead of his mental image of her and what she would like him to do, and that seems to please her even more than before, judging by the way she's moaning.

That's when she grabs his hips, braces herself, and _rams_ into him.

His whole body arches as he comes with a strangled shout, all the tension leaving him.

There's a period of blank time after that.

When he's more aware, he drifts unanchored, feeling oddly empty without something inside him, Emma's hands undoing the blindfold and slipping his visor on. She kisses him gently.

He could almost swear he heard her laugh.


End file.
